


Lie With Me

by purple_cube



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick knows better than anyone that there are no winners of the Hunger Games; there are only survivors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lie With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request on Tumblr for Finnick and Annie and the line "please stay". 
> 
> Mild spoiler: Librae is one of the District 4 victors' names seen on the Mockingjay movie set photos leaked last year.

 

  

There is one long, awful minute where all they can see for miles is water. From every camera angle, seemingly across every inch of the arena.

 

And then a hand emerges, followed quickly by a mane of red hair. He doesn’t need the close-up shot to know that it’s her. She’s done it. Annie Cresta has survived.

 

The feeling of relief lasts all of two seconds following the announcement by Claudius Templesmith. The knowledge of what’s to come, and what he now needs to prepare her for, is too much. He stumbles to the nearest bathroom, almost knocking over the attendant in the hallway.

 

It’s only when the contents of his stomach have painted the sides of the toilet bowl that he thinks about what that attendant had been bringing into the lounge.

 

_Victory drinks._

 

Victory. He understands now just how hollow that word is. And now, he gets to be the one to explain it to Annie.

 

Her wounds are deemed superficial after her medical, so the stage, audience and Caesar Flickerman are prepared for that very evening. On District 4’s floor of the Training Center, they spend much of the afternoon rehearsing for the interview.

 

He rubs her back in long strokes as Mags and Librae discuss potential questions that Caesar might ask. But it’s obvious to all of them that Annie isn’t listening.

 

“Did you ever visit Eerie’s Rock?” he whispers into her ear.

 

Her glassy eyes turn to him. She nods slowly.

 

“Do you remember how the waves crashed so violently there at high tide? The spray seemed to go up into the sky for miles.”

 

The ghost of a smile appears on her lips. She does remember. More importantly, the memory is displacing whichever one has kept her mind trapped for the last few minutes.

 

Mags and Librae have stopped talking and turned their attention to him, but he studiously ignores their inquisitive looks. When he is confident that Annie is with them and not trapped in the arena, he echoes some of Librae’s earlier words.

 

“Caesar is going to ask you about Kavan’s death. Tell him that it was devastating to lose your district partner, but that you’re grateful that you didn’t have to kill him yourself. Then change the subject – talk about something from home, say that you have a cousin that Kavan reminded you of, or that he would be glad that 4 had another victor. Say enough to satisfy Caesar but not too much or it will encourage more questions. When they show his death, don’t watch. Pretend that you have something in your eye, or pick a thread off of your dress. _Anything_. Just don’t look at the screen when they show him.”

 

He knows that he’s succeeded when she angles her chin, just a fraction, in the same way that she had during training. “I won’t,” she says with such resolve that it makes him smile.

 

And she doesn’t. She is polite and courteous to Caesar throughout, but she doesn’t give them what they want – and they know it. The audience murmurs its displeasure, knowing that they’ll have lost whatever money they laid down for the first Victor’s meltdown live on stage.

 

But he doesn’t care about them. His world narrows to only her, looking impossibly strong under the harshest of spotlights.

 

_Like a true Victor._

 

When it’s over, he leads her straight to her room, despite Librae’s protests. The door has barely clicked shut when her body seems to crumble like paper. He rushes to reach her, gathering her up into his arms and dragging them both to the bed.

 

It’s a long time before either of them makes a sound.

 

“I wasn’t a Career,” she whispers.

 

He knows. He also knows that her partner _had_ been one, that his family had employed the same trainers as Finnick’s had. _Didn’t do him much good._

 

“I expected someone to volunteer, but when they didn’t…”

 

He takes her hand. “When they didn’t, you walked onto that stage and you held your head up high,” he reminds her. “You did everything I asked of you in training. _Everything_. And you survived.”

 

“But I didn’t win, did I? This can’t be what winning feels like, can it?”

 

_So. She understands_. “No,” he says out loud, finally returning her gaze. “Nobody wins the Games. You either survive…or you don’t.”

 

“And do they always stay with you? The ones that don’t survive?”

 

He swallows hard before answering. “Yeah. They do.”

 

“Does it get easier?”

 

“A little,” he says truthfully. “But only a little.”

 

He doesn’t tell her that there are other horrors awaiting her. She doesn’t need to know just yet, and if her interview with Caesar is anything to go by, the Capitol might not be as interested in her as they have been in previous Victors. Maybe, just maybe, she might be spared from that.

 

She looks exhausted, as if the chaos of the last few days has finally gotten the better of her. Finnick nudges her shoulder gently before flicking his gaze at the pillow behind her. “Sleep.”

 

She leans to her side effortlessly, accepting his help when he lifts her legs up onto the bed and removes her shoes. 

 

Before he can retreat, she reaches for his hand. “Please stay.”

 

He hesitates only a moment before kicking off his own shoes and climbing onto the mattress beside her. She gives him a soft smile before turning towards the window – though not before she guides his arm to circle her waist. He strokes her hair with his other hand, at first to stop it from tickling his cheek, but then persisting when he notices the way she relaxes under his touch.

 

He wants to whisper that it will all be okay, just like they did for him. Except that he knows now just how big a lie that had been, and he doesn’t want to do that to Annie. He doesn’t want to be the one who says that to her.

 

Instead, he tells her something real, a promise that he intends to keep for as long as he can. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

 

 


End file.
